Forgiving Yourself
by ToInsanitysEnd
Summary: Redemption begins with forgiving yourself. Superman/Batman


**Forgiving Yourself**

**Author:** LuciferxDamien

**Rating:** PG-13-ish

**Pairing:** Superman/Batman

**Genre:** Angst, Hurt/Comfort

**Summary:** Redemption begins with forgiving yourself.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own, no matter how slashy DC makes them, this is still just a work of fiction of my evil brain. :/

**Author's Note:** This…erm…piece was written for MissMiako's contest. Procrastination is not a good thing and well…Considering it was written in about 2 hours, I think it came out pretty nicely…You know…Considering… . Review?

Oh yes, I might write Batman's side to all of this…I might not. Depends.

And because a muse should never be forgotten, I must give credit to my belurved Renaru, for she is my Zombie-pie. Try to eat her and I'll shank you with Kryptonite. Thank you, Renny, for putting up with me even though I know you don't really like this pairing.

**Warnings:** Uhhmmm…Angering the Batman? Really, REALLY pissing him off? Sulking Clark? Are those even warnings…

**Fandom:** Justice League – Toonverse

It had been a month. It had been a month since Bruce had been hurt and Clark hadn't stopped by to see him once. He couldn't. It would kill him to see the man. The man he loved hurt so badly…Hurt by his hands.

The rest of the league had reassured him, told him it wasn't his fault. It was the red Kryptonite, but that didn't change what he had done. That didn't take away the bruises, the cuts, the scars, or the broken bones. None of them had been hurt quite so badly like Batman. They didn't understand. How could they? They'd never nearly beaten the person they loved to death with their bare hands.

Diana kept telling him that Bruce wanted to see him, but he wasn't sure if she was just saying that to make him feel better or not. Wally tried to trick him into the infirmary more than once, but he wasn't stupid. What if Bruce just wanted to see him to tell him it was over? Then what was he going to do? Clark was never more glad about being the strongest member of the league than he was this past month. At least none of them would be able to hog tie him and throw him into Bruce's room.

But now, Bruce was able to walk around again, not for long or for very far, but he was smart. He knew how to corner, block paths, and force men so much larger than him to their knees. He'd done it to Clark more than once, albeit those were…more pleasurable times.

What if he did accidently run into Bruce in the hallways? He couldn't just run away, pretend not to see, act like he didn't hear him calling. Bruce deserved better than that. Bruce deserved someone better than him, someone that wouldn't lose his mind if a shiny red rock was shoved in his face.

He only wished that the memories were a blur, but they bit at him in startling clarity, reminding him everyday what he had done. Every hour, every minute. Every. Second. And the harder he tried to push the thoughts away, the harder they pushed back, screamed at him, told him, reminded him of what he had done.

And the blood. It was everywhere. All over his costume and face and hands. The smell was awful and acrid in his nostrils. He could still smell it, a month later it was still there, lingering on his hands, permanently fused with his skin. All the scrubbing and perfume in the world would never erase the smell from his skin.

Then after the blood came the gasping, rasping sounds from the broken Bat that lay in a graveled mess, covered with dust and dirt, little rocks sticking into his soft flesh. So soft…so…human.

Clark had to stop himself, had to keep from going there again. The things he did as Batman lay in rocky mess that used to be a plaster wall were just…Unthinkable. He toyed with the man, let him get away only to catch him a second later and hurt him some more, break another rib, cause another bruise, grind more gravel into his bleeding body.

J'onn walked by and looked down at him sympathetically. No doubt he'd been reading his mind, seeing what he was thinking about for the umpteenth time that hour. That minute, that second…The memories flashed so fast he had no idea how many times they had looped through his mind in a matter of moments.

Clark managed a smile at him. "I know…It's not my fault and I just need to go see him." J'onn tried to smile in return but he knew it wouldn't help.

"Yes, Kal-El. I know you don't believe us, but he does want to see you."

He couldn't take the look anymore. Clark stood up and put a hand on J'onn's shoulder. "I know…but I…"

"Yes, Kal-El. I understand."

The Martian allowed Clark to walk away and he was so thankful for him being a telepath. J'onn was the only one that didn't push him to go see Bruce. J'onn was the only one that knew what he and Bruce were to each other. Bruce had wanted to keep their relationship a secret as long as possible. Clark let him have his way, not really keen on the idea of Wally making jokes at them either. And then there would be the Diana thing to sort out…She still had a crush on the Dark Knight…Thinking about that just sent another plague of horrible thoughts racing through Clark's mind.

Questions and uncertainties like 'What if Bruce left him for her because of this' and 'What if he really did lose Bruce' made themselves known. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about this; he thought about it before…_this_ happened, but at the time, it was just a passing thought. Now…Now it could be reality as he saw Diana coming down the hall.

No doubt she had just come from sitting with Bruce. She spent all her free time with him. Jealousy and anger bit at him and he wanted to tell her to stay the hell away from his boyfriend…He only smiled at her instead.

"How is he…?" His voice cracked, but he didn't care right now.

She tried to smile at him, be pleasant but it was obvious she was annoyed with him for not just going and seeing for himself. "He's doing a lot better. He…He's been asking…Well, demanding to see you." She sighed and ran a hand through her long black hair. "You need to go see him before he kills one of us, Clark. He's sick and tired of you avoiding him."

Superman, _Superman_ shrugged sheepishly. He considered telling her that had just been busy and honestly meant to see him but…She deserved better than that. She knew better than that. He cast his baby-blue eyes down to the floor, ashamed of himself. "I know, Diana…"

He didn't even bother to wait for her to say something else, just pushed past her, walking toward Bruce's room. His feet had led him there many times, but he could never actually get them to carry him inside. They seemed to root themselves firmly outside and would not take a step further. Every day, the same thing.

Shayera stomped down the corridor with a large bruise forming on her face and Clark had readied himself for her words, her convictions when she just swung her mace and sent him flying into the steel wall. She wasn't going to fight with him again, was she?

Just as fast as she had come, she was gone, nowhere to be seen. Clark used his x-ray vision to see that she was quickly making her way to the training room. John Stewart appeared, looking him over to see that she had, in fact whacked him with her mace.

"You okay?" He tried to be polite, but he was just as annoyed with Clark as the rest of the league. And probably not too happy to have an angry Hawkgirl on his hands.

"Yeah…fine." Clark rubbed his chest where the Thanagarian mace had hit him.

"Batman threw something at her and hit her in the face. He's going out of his mind, Clark. You need to talk to him. Now preferably."

"Yeah…Diana told me he was getting…Difficult."

The Green Lantern scoffed. "He's beyond difficult, Clark. He was difficult before, now he's uncontrollable."

Clark didn't know what to say, what to do…He just stood there until John threw his arms up in frustration and went to find Shayera.

Again, his feet continued on down the familiar hallway. Where that familiar door seemed like green Kryptonite with all the fear it instilled in the Man of Steel. Clark would stand outside that door for hours, just staring at it. He couldn't even bring himself to use x-ray vision and pretended to himself that Bruce was paranoid enough to encase his quarters in lead…even if he knew otherwise.

Wally came racing through the hall, going past Superman before stopping and turning around. "Supes! Finally! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Clark grit his teeth and wanted to yell at the red-head to leave him alone and he'd see Bruce when he was good and ready, but he didn't. He couldn't. What right did he have to? "I know, Wally…Batman is angry and wants to see me…"

The Flash cocked his head to the side, confused. "Uh…yeah, but that's not why I was looking for you."

Clark raised an eyebrow. So he wasn't going to get another stern…well, another talking to about seeing Bruce? "Okay…then what do you need? Did a mission come up?"

"No…Uh, dude…Batman is gone."

Clark's heart sank to the floor. "What do you mean gone?" His voice came out louder than he had intended.

"Uh, missing? I just went into his room and he was gone."

Oh…so that's what he meant. His heart beat steadied some. "You go tell the others and I'll start looking for him."

He'd never tell anyone, but secretly, he hoped he wouldn't be the one to find Bruce. He wasn't ready to see the man yet…wasn't ready to face what he had done to the man he loved more than anything.

"There you are."

The voice was stern and deep. It was angry and not a little raspy…Oh god. It was Bruce.

A startled yelp escaped Clark as he turned to see the Dark Knight. "B-Bruce…"

"What the fuck do you think you've been doing for the past month?" He was on crutches, cowl and cape on, chest bare, at least where it wasn't bandaged.

Clark stood like a deer in headlights as the man made his way to him. Oh hell…What was he going to do now!

"I can't believe you haven't come to see me, you bastard."

It was what he feared most…Bruce…Bruce…didn't want him anymore…

"I've been asking for you every day, every fucking minute and you still haven't come to see me. I know you could hear me, Clark."

It was true. He could hear Bruce, no matter how much he wished he couldn't he had heard the pleas…demands to see him.

"So tell me, Boy Scout, what's been so important that you couldn't come see me?"

"I…Bruce…" He had no idea what to say. What **could** he say? 'I'm sorry I almost killed you, please still love me?' Not hardly…

Bruce was right in his face now. Face to face. When had he pulled the cowl off? "You'd better have one hell of an excuse for not seeing me, Clark."

Oh he was so angry…But…he hadn't said anything about what happened…only kept asking why he hadn't seen him…Just what did that mean? "I'm…sorry, Bruce…"

"Sorry isn't going to make up for it, Clark." Bruce sighed, face softening slightly. "I swear to God if you've been sulking for an entire month over this…I'll kill you myself."

Clark looked into Bruce's eyes. There was none of the bitter hatred he had feared he'd see…none of the acid or venom he could contain in those eyes…Just…anger and weariness. And something else…something he couldn't describe.

"How can I not blame myself, Bruce? How…I almost killed you…" He looked away, only to have his chin snapped back and was forced to look right at Bruce.

"Not. Your. Fault." He said softly, pressing his lips to Clark's before he had a chance to do anything else.

And it felt so good, so right…Oh he had missed this so much. He wrapped his arms around Bruce's shoulders, gently. "Bruce…I'm still so sorry…"

"You should be more worried about what I'm going to do to you for not seeing me this entire month than what I _could_ do to you for nearly killing me."

Just what was that supposed to mean?

"You have a lot to make up for, Kal-El. And I expect to paid properly and lavishly."

Errr…What? "Bruce…What…?"

A smirk and a dark glint that could only be lust flashed in Bruce's eyes.

"B-Bruce! You're still hurt…We…we can't…"

"We can't do everything yet, but my mouth works just fine. And yours appears to as well, even if you can't form a proper sentence right now."

Clark was sure his eyes were just as dark as Bruce's now. "So…Does that mean you forgive me then?"

"No."

"What…? But you said it wasn't my fault!"

"And nearly killing me isn't your fault. Driving me to nearly kill everyone else because you refused to see me _is_ your fault." He smirked again and brushed his lips lightly against Clark's, pulling away half a second later. "Redemption begins with forgiving yourself, Clark…" His tone was solemn, then changed to playful. "So…what do you think it'll take so that you can finally forgive yourself?"


End file.
